The Ariadne, A Ferry Tale

September 21, 2022

And So It Begins

Confusion, irritation, fear, and anger were swirling around in my head. It was 3:15 in the morning and I was being herded off an enormous ferry ship by a frantic Greek woman in an official looking uniform. A woman who spoke only one word of English that I was about to hear repeatedly. 

On to Kos

Our alarm went off at 2:10 am. We needed to make sure we had enough time to catch a taxi to the port.  We were heading to the Pier to board our ferry from Samos to Kos Island, Greece.

I researched the ferry schedule back home in Seattle and it seemed the only ship from Samos Island to Kos Island left port at 3:25 am. That wasn’t such great news.

I hoped I was wrong, and there’d be another option at a more reasonable hour once we were actually on Samos, but no, that was the one and only. Three twenty-five am it is. 

The Dead of Night

Kokkari, the small, charming, and sleepy village by the sea on the Greek island of Samos, where we had spent the past two days, was dead at that late hour.

I had asked our host the day before to arrange for a taxi, and I had my fingers crossed that the taxi would actually be at the bottom of the long line of wide stone stairs that led from our studio apartment to the alley below. If the taxi was a no-show, we’d be stranded. 

I descended the stairs, bleary-eyed, not quite fully awake, carrying my backpack and crossbody bag like a packhorse climbing down off a mountain in the darkness of the night. 

And there it was. A taxi was waiting, engine on. 

The Terminal

The taxi drove through the deserted village, then wound through the hills to the port.

There were more people than I had expected milling about outside the ferry terminal building at 2:50 am in the pitch black, but the roads were vacant. There was even a huge tour bus emptying its entourage out onto the pier for the next ferry. 

Blue Star Ferries

We watched the ferry arrive. The name of the ferry line, Blue Star Ferries, was emblazoned in huge letters on its side. 

We had purchased our tickets from the Blue Star Ferry office in Vathy, the port town we arrived at two days prior. Our tickets prominently said “Blue Star Ferries” on the front. 

Ferry Ship on Steroids

The ferry was huge. It was the size of one of those two or three thousand passenger cruise ships, which wasn’t what we had expected. Our ferry to Samos was probably one twentieth the size and passenger only.

This ship had many floors and carried vehicles, as well as passengers. It had lobbies, restaurants, lounges, leather couches, chandeliers, fancy shops, and staterooms. 

The Process Begins

Everyone started moving forward, inching through an opening where a ferry worker stood.  I had our tickets in hand, ready to show him, but he shook his head indicating no need. 

I said, “Kos?”, and pointed at the ship. He said, “yes”, and swung his whole arm from front to back, as if I should just keep moving along. 

After moving by the non-ticket taker, we were corralled in a waiting area on the pier while the ship finished backing in and getting secured at the dock. 

The Announcements

A ferry worker came over and yelled some announcements in Greek, loudly over the heads of the large group that was waiting to board. 

Steve had ended up a bit away from me in the crowd during the jockeying for position, as we gathered in the waiting area. He turned towards me and our eyes met. 

We simultaneously did the universally known eye-roll. In this instance it meant, “Yeah buddy, we have no idea what you just said.” 

We figured we could do without the announcement, as long as we kept our wits about us and moved along with the group. 

Finally to Board

A worker gave us the go-ahead, and we shuffled en masse towards the Blue Star Ferry monstrosity, careful to avoid getting run over by the line of huge trucks and cars emptying off the ferry. 

Just as we were going up the ferry’s ramp, I noticed yet another equally gigantic ship coming into port. I was surprised it was so busy at that hour. 

Finally onboard the lowest level of the ship, we were at the entrance door.  We handed the worker our tickets. He ripped off a section and handed a part of the ticket back to us. 

We Made It

Once inside, we traveled up two long escalators that took us up to the fourth floor lobby, with swirling carpet patterns, chandeliers and a reception desk, just like a cruise ship. 

We proceeded at a fast clip, with me in the lead, down the hall scanning for open seating in the large lounge. I wanted the best location to make camp for the next four hours. I was a woman on a mission. 

I noticed that most of the couches, where a person could actually lie down and get some rest, were taken. Bummer. I was moving hurriedly and hadn’t realized Steve was dropping back a ways. 

Greeks Not Bearing Gifts

That’s when it happened. The non-English speaking ferry worker suddenly approached me head-on, opening her arms as if she were going to embrace me.  I’d never seen the woman before. Her eyes were intent on mine, like she had a mission of her own. She grabbed me by the elbow and was speaking in an urgent tone in Greek. 

She spun me around and was using her one word of English, “Hurry!!!”

Steve Has Problems of His Own

As she turned me around, I could now see Steve, who was a good 20 feet away. A man, also in uniform, was manhandling Steve in a similar manner, urging him to turn-around and head back down stairs to the entry ramp. 

At the woman’s insistence, I reluctantly took tiny side-steps back towards the escalators, trying not to lose too much ground. She kept her hand securely on my elbow, saying, “Hurry, hurry.”

I’ve Got This

I quickly pulled out our ticket stubs, sure this would clear things up.  While still side-stepping backwards I held the tickets out for the woman to clearly see.

“No, please. We’ve already shown our ticket as we entered,” I exclaimed. She didn’t even acknowledge me. She was singularly focused on getting me downstairs. 

Well, That Didn’t Work

I couldn’t believe this was happening. Frankly, I was getting a bit irritated. In desperation I glanced over at Steve several times, looking for some help or an explanation. He seemed to be in a similar predicament and was too busy dealing with his own aggressor to look over at me. No help was coming from Steve. 

Meanwhile, this woman was certainly having her way with me. 

Confusion Reigns

I was so confused. What is happening here?  We paid. We have a ticket. The guy saw our tickets and let us on board. 

Then I started to get a little frightened. Had we done something wrong?  Were we being detained or even arrested? What are Greek prisons like?

The Way Station

We arrived at the top of the escalators we had so recently ascended, but going down there were only stairs. Lots of stairs. The woman had done her duty and delivered me. Now it was up to me to go down. We were at the point of no-return.

Steve was already halfway down the staircase. At that moment I heard a booming male voice from the landing below.

“You’re on the wrong ship!”

The man was most certainly directing this urgent message to us. I quickly looked around. There was no one else but us.  Everyone else had already boarded and were happily settled elsewhere on the ship.  The ferry was about to leave the port. 

Clarity

Suddenly it all became very clear. My companion was still by my side, her eyes pleading with me to go down the stairs. For maybe the fifth time she repeated her only word of English, “HURRY!”  

Everything suddenly clicked. I didn’t know how we could possibly be on the wrong ship, but the intensity and urgency of these several ferry employees, who were tasked with finding and redirecting these English speaking foreigners, came through loud and clear. 

Hysterical Strength 

They say when there’s an emergency that you gain strength and don’t feel pain. The experts call this Hysterical Strength.

Usually I would take two long flights of stairs down slowly and carefully, especially all loaded down with my travel gear. But I took those stairs at a record clip and without a thought, catching up with Steve as we exited the ship.  Hysterical strength sure comes in handy in a pinch.

The Right Ship

The only other ship in port was down the pier about 200 yards. It had already loaded all walk-on passengers, and was finishing up with a few enormous trucks. Having just conquered the stairs, I was a bit winded and still in disbelief, but when Steve said, “Maybe we should run,” we did, without hesitation. 

Panting and shell-shocked from our ordeal, we were relieved to reach the correct ferry, the Ariadne, just as the last truck was loading. The ferry worker, who was ushering the truck onboard, was a bit confused to see us, but looked at our ticket and let us proceed. 

Wins & Losses

Our ship, the Ariadne, was way less crowded than the wrong ship (we never did get the name, just knew it said “Blue Star Ferries”). We were able to secure two comfortable leather couches to rest and relax on our ride to Kos. 

Unfortunately our two couches onboard were separated by an already occupied couch. An older woman lay wrapped like a burrito covering her entire body and most of her face. She was snoring loudly the entire four hours. 

We were very happy to secure couches for the four hour ride. There were many others trying to get some sleep too.

We learned a valuable lesson. Always look at the ship name on the ticket and verify before boarding. Rookie mistake. 

Getting up at 2-something in the morning to catch a four-hour ferry wasn’t ideal, but arriving at our new Greek island of Kos at 7:45 am was pretty nice.  

We had a beautiful sunrise as we approached Kos Island.

We aren’t thrilled with the Blue Star Ferries ticket-taker who should have noticed we handed him tickets for the Ariadne as we boarded.  That being said, we are so sincerely grateful for the dedication of the ferry workers who hunted us down and their persistence in getting two clueless Americans off that ship.   

Next Stop: Kos Town, Kos, Greece